Of Burgers And Milkshakes
by varchie.tughead
Summary: "I won't be the cure for your loneliness." "No...you'd be so much more than that." He was Jughead, and she was Toni, and they might be the most broken people in the world, and they might've lived more than most, but all they needed was a burger in an empty booth at Pop's to fix everything. And maybe, just maybe, he can catch her by surprise for once. /\ Toni.Jughead


"How's your arm?"

"Fine."

"How's the tattoo?"

"Fine."

"How's your life?"

"Fine."

"Are you going to answer 'fine' for everything I'm going to say?" Toni demanded, a bit pissed off.

"Fine."

She shoved Jughead's arm. "Are you even listening to me? Have you been spacing out this entire time?!" Jughead continued to stare at the desk without really staring. Now, Toni noticed the slightly _off_ look in his eyes. He barely flinched when her fingers brushed against his arm. He really _was_ out of it. Rolling her eyes, Toni grabbed the handy megaphone that was lying beside the desk. She raised it to her lips. "JUGHEAD JONES—"

Jughead snapped back to reality with a jolt. Unfortunately, that jolt caused her to drop the megaphone—God, it made her spine curl as it hit the ground with a very audible _shriek_ —and cause him to stumble into her. Toni would've screamed—but the incident wasn't exactly 'shriek-worthy'—and screaming would definitely lose her some cool points. The two crumpled into the ground right beside the megaphone. Toni didn't have time to look surprised. It happened in a flash.

"OW—Toni, what did you do?"

Toni's eyes widened in indignation. "What?! _Me?_ What're you talking about?"

"Considering we're on the ground, I'm guessing this is your fault," Jughead said dryly.

Toni glared. "It's _your_ fault, mister. If you didn't just stand there like the living dead, we wouldn't be _in_ this mess."

"Well, you didn't have to bother me," Jughead huffed. "I was busy."

"Busy with _what?"_

"Thinking, something you would have no experience with," Jughead told her, smirking. Why that sly little—well, you didn't want to know what she was thinking right then. Then, he scrambled to his feet and offered a hand to her, giving her his _I'm such a gentleman_ look. She rolled her eyes and seized hold of his hand. Warmth tingled through her palm. Then, she paused. She smirked and tightened her hold on him before pulling him down to the ground again. He hit the ground clumsily with an audible _thump!_

"If I don't think, how'd I think of that?" Toni said, smirking.

Jughead rolled his frost-colored eyes. "That doesn't count as thinking."

She glared and whacked him in the head. "Excuse _you."_

"Isn't that supposed to be said as a question?"

"Don't"— _whack!_ —"contradict"— _whack!_ —"me"— _whack!_ —"ever"— _whack!_ —"again."

"Okay, okay," Jughead said, shooting her a weary look. "No need to get aggressive."

Toni rolled her eyes at him, resisting the urge to throttle him, and he stuck his tongue out at her childishly. Yes, Jughead was smarter than the rest of the dumb Serpents, who could barely string a few sentences about Julius Caesar together, but he was a real pain in the ass when he wanted to be, AKA _all the time._ And just because he liked messing with her, too.

"So, what were you talking about again?" Jughead inquired.

"Never mind," Toni growled.

Jughead raised a brow. "I'll buy you a burger, and you can tell me all about it."

Toni thought about it. "I do like burgers," she mused. "Alright then."

* * *

The Northside was clean and smelled of that lemon cleanser thing and was full of ridiculous smiles and milkshakes.

And Toni absolutely hated it.

Okay, okay, maybe hate was a bit strong. But...she did feel completely out of her comfort zone, especially with her Serpent jacket among the many pastel-colored coats and sweaters. It felt unnatural, and she felt...if she was being completely honest, vulnerable. She felt like a snake that had just shed their skin, but if there was anything Toni was a master at, it was hiding how she truly felt.

But Toni wasn't one to get shocked easily, or surprised. In fact, she prided herself on that.

So she put a passive, indifferent look on her face.

Jughead led her to Pop's, a chock'lit shoppe, whatever the hell _that_ entailed. He ordered some food, and they sat at a table, quietly munching on the stuff. Toni had to admit that the burgers were a lot better than whatever the Southside dubbed as burgers, but hey, come and go, right? Toni might bring a few burgers back to Sweet Pea. He wouldn't believe it.

Jughead was going through his third burger as Toni finished her first. Her face must've been doing something because he looked up and raised a brow. "What?"

Toni set down her milkshake. "Your ability to consume food is astounding," she said, shrugging.

Jughead shot her a crooked smile. "Like the way you inhaled that pizza the other day?"

"ONE TIME," Toni groaned, leaning back into her seat. Then, Toni noticed a peculiar look on his face. She refrained from groaning, but...the look on his face—he looked...strangely vulnerable. Toni swore inwardly. She wasn't good with feelings, and she wasn't good with _comforting_ people. Hell, if you found someone in the Southside who was good at that, Toni would set her motorcycle on fire. But, somehow, against all natures, Toni found herself asking, "What's on your mind?"

Jughead looked up at her and smiled dryly at her, a smile with no humor. "You don't really care, do you?"

"About your problems?" Toni caught his gaze. "I wouldn't say _that._ I mean, if you got pissed because someone stole your burger, I would laugh and all, but..." She trailed off, searching for the right words. "Jughead, if you have something to say, go ahead and say it." She tilted her head. "I won't pretend I'm a good listener because I don't listen to people that often, but if you want to vent...my door's always open."

He smiled. "Is that your way of saying you care about my problems?"

She shot him a warning look. "Hey, don't push it, Jones."

"Right," he said breezily. He looked down, and his lashes cast dim shadows across his face. "I was just thinking...about my dad."

"FP Jones," Toni said quietly.

Jughead nodded. "I don't know. It's stupid, but...I just..." Jughead broke off his words. "I guess I feel this—this emptiness."

"Emptiness..." Toni echoed. "Or..." She waited for him to meet her eyes. "Possibly loneliness?" A frown crossed Jughead's features, and Toni thought she felt her heart picking up its pace. "Listen, you've lived in the Northside for a long time, and it's going to take time to adjust." She glanced down briefly. "I know what you're talking about, though. The Serpents have your back, but...there's just something—"

"—missing," Jughead finished. "Yeah..." His eyes bore into hers. "I just..." He swallowed. "You were there, and—"

"I won't be the cure for you loneliness," she said sharply.

He stared at her, gazing deeply into her eyes. "No..." he said softly. "You'd be so much more than that."

With their eyes locked, Toni felt her heart racing faster and faster. A tiny part of her thought, _oh great, my organs can do gymnastics now,_ but the rest of her...the rest of her just wanted to stay here. Sometimes, Toni would feel this specialness with Jughead. Sometimes, she would wonder if it was all in her head. Even with Betty, she still felt that specialness, usually laced with guilt. And Toni knew that Jughead and Betty had something incredibly special. But...at the same time, Toni would feel something. And she felt it now, as she looked at Jughead. She just wanted to hold her breath and see what happened next.

Suddenly, Toni felt herself rising out of her seat in their booth and just getting out of there. She wasn't sure where she was going, and she sure as hell didn't know what she planned on doing, but all she knew was that she needed to get away.

"Toni. Hey, TONI."

Jughead's fingers wrapped around her wrist, and Toni found herself nearly yelling at him. "I'm not good with _this."_ She gestured towards them. "I'm not good with feelings and emotions, and if you think for one second that—"

Scratch what she said about not getting surprised.

When Jughead leaned forward and kissed her, all her systems shut down. She realized several things in that one instance. One, Jughead had surprised _her._ Two, she had _liked_ the kiss. And third, she kissed him _back._ She wasn't sure if it was because he had kissed _her_ or if it was because _he_ kissed her, but all coherent thoughts left her brain, and all she could feel were his lips against hers, and what was she thinking again?

When he pulled back, he kept his face close to hers. "Toni..." he murmured.

She was _smiling._ He was making her smile. "This isn't how it works," she muttered.

"Then how _does_ it work?"

"You're not supposed to surprise me—it's the other way around."

Jughead smiled. "Well, I'll buy you another burger, and you can tell me all about it." There was a playful note in his words.

"Burgers don't fix everything," she warned.

"No, but they'll fix this, don't you think? Now, remind me: do you prefer bacon in yours or not?"


End file.
